SYOT Open: The 25th Games
by StarDxst
Summary: [T for Violence] Tensions are rising in the first Quarter Quell. With a new head Gamemaker and trouble around every corner, how will this year's tributes fare? SYOT closing soon!
1. Prologue and Tribute form

The 25th hunger games are coming...

The first Quarter Quell after the rebellion's ending, the districts are full of tension. On the reveal of what this year's tributes face, the Capitol are viewed in a new light.

SYOT WELCOME!

Tribute form:

Name:

Age:

District:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Allies:

Fears:

Volunteer: Yes/no

Ambition:

Interview outfit:

Reaping outfit:

Sponsors: (number)

Weapon:

Appearance (Faceclaim or description)

History:

Family:

No copies of Katniss or Peeta please!

 **EDIT: Added an actual prologue!**

Prologue

His hands shaking, Head Gamemaker Alec Mason wrote what would be this year's challenge: the tributes would be chosen by the mayors of the districts. Panem would be surprised, sure, but he was sadistic enough to enjoy their pain. Mayor Owens would approve, he was sure.


	2. Emerald

**Thank you for my district 1 female, submitted by Smiley, and the lovely review. To EllaRoseEverdeen: I was waiting for a tribute to be submitted so I could write a prologue. (Thank you for reminding me!) I'm reading your story at the moment. (Toxic: The 26th Hunger Games- check it out!) I have updated the form, but if you have already submitted a tribute, you don't have to update your form.**

 _(Emerald's POV)_

I launch my spear into the wall of the Training Centre, smiling as it hits the body painted onto the wall. A lot of people, almost our whole district, couldn't use a spear like I could. I revel in this, using the attention to gain sponsors in District 1, in case I am reaped. The only flaw in my system though, is Alex. Alex is, essentially, a know-it-all. Unfortunately, this know-it-all charms everyone into sponsoring him. He pretends he is 'the man' - his words, not mine. He can't wait to volunteer, he thinks he could win with one hand tied behind his back. How I would love to prove him wrong.

A husky voice alerts me to the screen in the corner. Of course, the head Gamemaker has changed the games yet again. This year, he calls it a Quarter Quell. We stare, aghast, at the screen as he announces that, this year, the authority of the districts have to choose their tributes.

No. Not happening. This can't be happening.

They will choose me. My plan has backfired in the worst possible way.


	3. Julia

**Sorry, I won't be updating from this Sunday to the Friday. Thanks for all the tributes! If you want your tribute to be written in in the next few days, please enter it by this Friday. The remaining spaces are:**

 **D1 M**

 **D2 M**

 **D3 FM**

 **D4 M**

 **D5 FM**

 **D6 FM**

 **D7 FM**

 **D8 FM**

 **D9 FM**

 **D10 FM**

 **D11 M**

 **D12 FM**

 **(we need more male)**

 **I love your tributes! Today's POV is Julia's! Thank you!**

 **(Julia's POV)**

The escort, Lisbeth, emerged looking flustered and anxious from the curtain. She looks like the Capitol had given her...something. It is ironic, really, how we all get dressed up to our death. I am wearing my favourite green dress, from my mother. It has petals looping around the hem and a matching headpiece. Lisbeth read out her notes clutched in one hand and went on to announce the tributes that our mayor has picked

"Ladies first!" she trilled. "This year's female tribute is... Leia Kennes!"

"I volunteer!" Whoever Leia is, I want to save her from the Games.

Whispers run through the crowd as Lisbeth mutters to the Mayor.

"Okay, what's your name honey?"

"I'm Julia Rose."

I'm so worried about the games, I didn't even catch the male tributes name.

 **(A/N I've done that last sentence because there are no male tributes! I will change when I get a District 11 male)**

 **Sorry if you haven't had your tribute in yet! I'm moving the story forward with every POV so it's likely yours will be in the Capitol itself. Sorry this one's so short.**


	4. Akwa

**2 chapters today! Thought you'd need a bit of reading before I leave for a week. Still need male tributes. To Radio Free Death-at that point I had no tributes but I will update the prologue now. To Smiley: Thanks! Julia is actually by Whirlpool833**

(Akwa's POV)

I don't want to lose. Scratch that- I really won't lose. Not to unwashed boys with leering smirks and dirty faces. Not to the people who killed my sister. Oh, Skye. What they did to you is so unfair. I hope I don't follow in her footsteps. I won't, though. Skye didn't expect what happened. I will.

The visitor's room is a plush, pink palace. The carpets are a salmon colour and the sofas are velvety and smooth. I briefly wonder what confrontations had taken place in this room in the twenty-five years since it was constructed.

The first person to enter is my mother. She wraps me in a hug, and confesses that she had a hand in the mayor's decision. I already know she has been tormented for Skye's loss and wants another chance at success.

"I'm not going the same way as Skye, before you tell me. I have a plan, actually."

She remains silent as I glower at her. That's how we remain until a Peacekeeper calls her away and motions for me to wait. I can't imagine who will visit me. My father is away on business for President Owens (again) and I didn't bother to make friends in District 4. I didn't need to; there wasn't rich pickings anyway.

A young girl comes sprinting in. I have never seen her before but... anyone is welcome here.


	5. Victorie (Train)

**I am in desperate need of male characters! If you have already submitted a tribute, you are welcome to submit another! This character (Victorie) was submitted by Bell8421.**

(Victorie's POV)

The train carriages must be interesting enough for nobody to answer my calls from my cabin. President Owens said earlier that 'no expense was spared on the travel'. I hope the tributes' living quarters would be on par.

"Hello! Anyone?" I scream. Back home, four maids and an Avox would have answered by now. Mother and Father must be upset. I hope they cancel the Games. At least, as I win the Games, they'll all know how perfect I am. Then it won't just be my family and friends that dote on me.

A sour-faced Avox walks in, grinding her teeth. She looks at me expectantly. Oh, right. "Have they cancelled the Games yet?" She rolls her eyes and gives me a dirty look. I feel like I've seen her before, though. Maybe I'm just worrying for no reason. I finger my bracelet and shoo her away. My bracelet passed the inspection, but nobody knows that it has a poisonous needle concealed inside. My plan is to trick them into being allies, then stab them in the back- literally. The train shudders to a halt and my Capitol life begins.

I've been in the Capitol before, but now the stakes are even higher. I look around at my opposition and see that I am easily the winner. Some people try to be underestimated and get a low score, then show their true talents in the arena. Not me, though. I want everyone to see how fabulous I am when I win. I don't want to be a tribute but, as my mother always says, sometimes there are people who give the best ones difficult trials. I'm fated to win this.

 **Sorry Bell8421 if this is the wrong angle for your character. Please let me know what you think of this chapter!**


	6. Nash

**I'm back! (with tributes- I'm hoping to reach the interviews by Sunday night) Thanks to Finn15 for the first male tribute! This is Nash, from District 7.**

(Nash's POV)

As a general rule, I don't like bullies. Which is why, when a girl called Victorie shoves me off my feet, I snap back easily.

"Quick everyone! We forgot to lay down the red carpet for Lady Victorie!"

Of course, she didn't hear my note of sarcasm. I mean, I don't even know this girl and yet she has already sussed out what she wants to wear for her Victory Tour. I think she'll be a bloodbath, personally. Honestly, I don't think anyone in the arena will cry for her.

I catch the eye of a girl who looks like she could kill with a flick of her wrist. I'd rather have an ally like her over no allies. She looks like nothing could daunt her.

 **I'm switching POV mid chapter as I think this will be best for this next part.**

(Emerald's POV)

A young boy, maybe Sapphire's age, stands apart from the other tributes. He catches my eye as if to ask whether we could be allies. I know he is naïve enough to think he might outlast most of them. Sapphire would do that too. He'll need a friend in the arena. And I will be that friend.

I give him an almost imperceptible nod of my head and I swear he almost cheers.


	7. Casper

**Okay, got quite a long one today.**

(Casper's POV)

I'm the youngest out of the tributes. Even though I'm from District 2, where we are well fed, unlike some other districts, it seems like the Mayor and his selection committee were drunk and picked a 12 year old. There are much better candidates for this. Maybe, you know, one who isn't scared of fish. It's completely irrational, but I'm absolutely terrified of them. My hope for food is to have an arena where the only water comes from empty crystalline streams, and blind animals walk around asking to be killed. Haha. I want to survive, but if I died to save Victorie then she could finally notice me! She has no idea I have a crush on her.

I wonder what my brothers are doing now, Zeke in particular. They could be in quiet agony, waiting for the moment of my death.

Or they could be fighting again. I'm particularly interested in what Zeke is doing, as the last time I saw him he was carving a wall illegally in the Justice building. He's probably in the stocks or getting whipped or something. At least he isn't hunting illegally. We heard that a couple in District 12, the Everdeens, were killed for coming back from outside their fence, leaving two young boys. I only hope Zeke doesn't go their way. As for the rest of my family, they will be out leading their lives carving masonry. If I win and somehow Vic dies, I would kiss goodbye to District 2 forever. I only hope that I, Casper Queens will:

a) not be a bloodbath victim

b) die nobly

c) look awesome in the hunger games

I think that's enough for my list.


	8. Caleb (oh wow that’s short)

**I'm catching up on my chapter quota and I apologise for no updates- I posted a review explaining.**

 **I (think) I made a forum! It's on my profile if you want to add anything. Suggest character deaths and the (gasp) winner on the forum.**

(Caleb's POV)

I run my hand through my hair, analysing my new situation. The walls of my room are glass, but they seen to be touch-sensitive. I briefly wonder how they work, but I have more pressing matters on my mind right now. Like how to win when I'm in the arena. I hope the Mayor sensed some sort of power that I have, which will come out in the arena. Other than that, these will be my last few days. I won't spent them pitying myself.

I will spend them planning.


	9. Chance

**I really have to give a shoutout to Smiley (guest reviewer), because they've given me reviews each chapter and supported me. I know there are more of you- thanks so much!**

Some years, tributes win by chance. This year, they will die by Chance Raze. That's my name. And winning is my game.

My stylist- Carrow- decided to dress me in my reaping outfit. Apparently he 'upgraded' it. Now it has glitter and jewels. I wouldn't be out of place in a bank vault.

As we step outside on our chariot, the crowd goes wild for us. Emerald smiles and waves politely, but I fix the cameras with a dark smoulder that leaves the ladies fainting. I catch a rose with my teeth then throw it back to the audience. Hundreds of hands reach out to grab it, pushing each other out of the way. The young woman who catches it is trampled on by the District 2 fans. Trust them to steal the spotlight.

As the circle of tributes is complete, the announcer talks about District 12's unflattering costumes. Every year they do this; have the District 12s wearing baggy suits and headlamps. This year, though, they seem to be dressed as canaries. With yellow plumage, the tributes look like idiots. I'd hate to be them.

 **EDIT: *cough* I um... put the wrong name in for Chance's district partner. *cough***


	10. Ashlyn

**Hi- These are the remaining tributes. Any more from previous submitters would be amazing! Shoutout to Awesomewriter177 and Whirlpool833 for tributes and reviews!**

 **District 1- FULL**

 **District 2- FULL**

 **District 3 Female**

 **District 4 Male**

 **District 5 Female and Male**

 **District 6 Female and Male**

 **District 7 Female**

 **District 8 Female and Male**

 **District 9 Female and Male**

 **District 10 Male**

 **District 11 Male**

 **District 12 Female and Male**

 **(Ashlyn's POV)**

I'm spending most of my time with Julia when we are in the Training centre- she is genuine and kind. We do a lot in the camouflage area, as we both don't like hurting people. I also learnt how to tie knots well. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die during the games. I can't even kill a rabbit. But I can see that the other tributes are working on archery and wrestling, and not the living-in-the-wild aspect of the games. I feel bad for thinking this, but I sort of hope they get killed from poisonous plants or something because we have been ridiculed for staying at this station. In a few minutes, it will be time for my private training session with the Gamemakers.

I walk into the room grinding my teeth a little; I am really nervous. The other tributes don't know this, but I have good aim with daggers and a crossbow. As the Gamemakers notice I'm here, I pick out a crossbow and shoot a knot in the wooden rafters. The Gamemakers all look impressed. So I show them what I can do with a dagger. Using the crossbow, I shoot the heart of one of the archery dummies used for practice. I then whip the dagger out and hit it in the exact same place as the arrow. The arrow is split into two pieces and the Gamemakers look surprised. I don't know what they were expecting for a twelve-year-old, but I'm not it. They dismiss me, and I go to the dinner they have to discuss training. My face appears on the television, a simple headshot and then...

A 12 flashes up on screen! I scream and clap my hands together. I have just made Hunger Games history as the first tribute to get a 12. Adding the fact that I am so young, I think I will get a few sponsors. I am ecstatic as I crawl into bed, ready for a good night's sleep before our interviews tomorrow.

 **What did you think? If you want to hear your tributes training score, I will tell you if you can answer one of the questions below:**

 **Who was Haymitch's ally in the second Quarter Quell?**

 **A mockingjay is a mix of a mockingbird and what?**

 **What colour eyes does Gale have?**

 **I'm going to start using the tributes I have been given again if there are no new faces to this Games- please submit a tribute!**


	11. Fiona

**I thought it'd be a little unfair if I gave one tribute the whole interviews- at some point this week I will post the parts I didn't include as a new story- I'm halfway through the interviews. I am still in desperate need of tributes but I'm going to start giving out second chapters. There is a poem later on in this chapter- do you want more poems?**

 **(Fiona's POV)**

To be honest, the interviews seemed kind of upsetting- I mean, these are the people who are going to die soon talking about their loved ones. I hope the Careers think about the victim's families as they slaughter them. I wrote a poem about my interview.

 **(this is my (badly written) poem)**

 _My dress is red_

 _But my heart is blue_

 _I want to live through the Games_

 _And not be one of the Bloodbath few_

 **(Now I'm going to feel like an awful person for killing tributes off *gulps*)**

I love this rooftop garden- no bright lights, no loud noises. I'm surprised that they let us up here at all. Don't they think we could just jump off the edge? I don't want to, you know, die that way but I'm intrigued. I chuck a perfect flower off the edge, only to have it jump back at me seconds later, wilted and with petals missing. I guess it is a metaphor for the Games- we start looking shiny and perfect, and slowly but surely that mask slips away forever. These Games will scar us all, whether us means survivors or families of the tributes that died.

 **I feel like this chapter is a little short- I'm really sorry.**


	12. Taylor

**As I said, I'd start putting different POV in. This is Taylor, Fiona's** **stylist. I don't mind whether you have already submitted loads of tributes you can add another if you would like to. You guys are great at submitting though!**

(Fiona's POV)

District 5 are always forgotten. Lost among the vibrant colours of District 1 and the laughable suits of District 12, nobody even knows what District 5 do. The usual stylists for District 5 moaned about it constantly, forever finding ways to obscurely link it in to conversation. Ugh. My male counterpart is another inexperienced phony. I learnt a long time ago that if you're not a District 1 stylist, you can't get attached. Still, these tributes must have been chosen for a reason. Staring at the bland arena outfits, I decide that a bit of sprucing up can't hurt.

(Four hours and six dyes later)

Well, they'll be recognisable in the arena for sure. The gaudy greens and shocking pinks are bound to make them stars. As for the neon orange and dirt resistant whites, nobody will forget their names. District 5- forever remembered by the Capitol as the brightest sparks.

 **Forever remembered? What do you think? (I did switch up the points of views)**


	13. Alec Mason

**I have loads of time over the next hour so there might be a few more chapters.**

 **Warnings of death later on- there is a summary of the chapter down below if you are the sort of person who doesn't like reading about death. This chapter is in 3RD PERSON! Alec seemed like a character I didn't want to get inside the head of.**

(Alex Mason's POV- he's from the prologue)

Surveying the arena. Alec scowled. He turned to the man in charge of building the scene that lay before him.

"What did you think you were doing?" he snarled, "This isn't what I wanted at all."

Crack! It only took a second before the lifeless body of the former arena builder lay before him. He had to make sure nobody found out about this. Anxiously, he tugged at the neckline of his thin short. The best he could do, without alerting anyone, would be to bury the body deep in the arena in a shallow grave. The unfocused honey brown eyes of the worker seem like they are staring into his soul. The scruffy brown hair reminds him of the young tribute about to face the arena. Caleb, he thinks. His name is Caleb.

The banks of the stream disguise the body well, Alec thinks. Obviously they should have never been used for that purpose.

Alec notices a small rustle. Someone coming, he thinks. I have to go. As Alec looks around, he realises he is lost. The only person who knew how to get out is buried next to him. He can only hope that someone notices him before the games that start in less than 10 hours.

 **Summary: Alec (head Gamemaker) sees the arena and is not satisfied. He kills the builder responsible and notices he looks like Caleb, a tribute about to face the arena. He buries the body and gets trapped in the arena with the games starting in less than 10 hours.**

 **If I get a tribute by midday tomorrow (UK time) I will post 2 chapters tomorrow.**

 **Also, I'm getting a dog tomorrow!**


	14. Emerald (pt2)

**I'm assuming nobody's going to submit a tribute by the end of the week(please do, though- I need more District partners) as I write in the rest of the chapters (I'm choosing a sequel character- may not be the Victor) Oh yeah, now I have to pick a Victor. I love all your characters, so please don't be offended if your tribute dies first. I can't decide the Bloodbath victims so I'm pulling them out of a hat.**

 **Also, I'm suffering from writer's block (and eye strain) so chapters might be a little slow.**

 **Happy Hunger Games!**

(Emerald's POV)

I mean, now that I'm here on the podium, I guess I have a better chance of winning. As a career Tribute, I'm going to be allied with the Career pack as I will be their first target if I don't.

This year's arena contains a muddy reservoir surrounded by sandy desert. The only wood is in the Cornucopia, heavily guarded by a set of puzzles. I can see from here that the rest of the tributes are as confused by this arena layout as I am. This has never been done before

30 seconds left. I'm going to the Cornucopia.

20\. I can't

10\. I have to.

And we're off! The young boy who loves electronics has already grabbed a pack and sprinted off. Victorie is standing next to me, hurrying me on with a 'come here' gesture. I've missed my opportunity, and a weapon with it. I sprint into the sand and watch as the rest of the Careers follow me.

Let's win these games.


	15. Dakota

**Thank you to my new reviewer (you know who you are) and for two new tributes! I'm starting a new fanfic about Rue so look out for it on my profile. It is my first collab- I'd also like to thank all new readers. (and the person I am collaborating with) Sorry for no updates. (and this really long A/N)**

 **(Dakota's POV)**

Bang! Bang! Bang! The cannons sound later than usual, almost overlapping the photos of the fallen tributes.

I didn't know their names. I didn't want to get attached. But somewhere, hundreds of miles away, their families will grieve. The next time they see their child, it will be in a plain wooden box. I don't recognise any of them from training. Why would I, when I spent all my time at the fencing station?

The few-and-far-between rocks of the arena act like caves for those who need shelter from the trouble ahead. I am one of them and I must be prepared as the Careers will navigate between them, slaughtering the sleeping ones and the undefended. As I don't have an ally, I need to be awake all night and on guard.

Riippp! A serrated knife cuts through the makeshift shelter I built. I can't believe I fell asleep while the Careers were making their rounds.

I grab my foil and wait. I'm so glad I grabbed this at the cornucopia. The deadly blade is like an extension of my hand, swiping and stabbing. Finally, I hear my career opponents slink away, defeated. The desert is silent once again.

 **New POV! I'm also moving house so I might not update as regularly until the end of August/beginning of September. Thanks for being so considerate while these updates aren't regular.**


	16. Alea

**So I have 2 new fanfiction ideas in the working, and I need characters for a pre-games fanfic. This is still my main priority though. I didn't kill off any submitted tributes in the bloodbath (for those who asked), but if I do kill off one of your tributes, I'm sorry. Please don't stop reading if your tributes are killed!**

 **I'm also sorry about no updates, I'm moving house and updates are really irregular.**

 **(Alea's POV)**

I can see the Careers from my hiding place behind a large boulders. They're not even trying to hide their location. Cocky idiots. I aim a knife, collected from the Cornucopia at one of their heads.

Thunk! The knife misses the Careers by at least a metre. I knew a knife was a bad weapon.

"There's someone here!"

The Careers round the corner and spot me. Oops.

The leader of the Careers, Emerald, yells, "Leave her! She's not worth it."

Before they leave, one chucks my knife behind them. Time stands still as I scramble in the sand to dodge the airborne weapon. I struggle to get a grip.

And the knife plunges straight into my foot.

 **I know I said Emerald was in the Careers, all will be explained...**


	17. Willow

**Thought I'd give you another chapter. If you want longer chapters, ask me for them in the reviews. I can't write more than, say, 10k per chapter, because I'm not that sort of writer.**

 ***SPOILER***

 **To the people who asked whether Alea is okay- this chapter will reveal all...**

 **To the guest who submitted this tribute: Sorry I haven't used your prologue because no submitted tributes have died yet. It may be included later in the story though.**

 **This chapter is slightly graphic. Just saying.**

 **If any more tributes are submitted, they will be further down the queue for chapter POV's. Thank you for submitting so many and for 67 reviews!**

(Willow's POV)

The quiet sobs of an dying tribute nearby upset me more than the cocky grins of the Careers.

It had to happen at some point, I think. This is the Hunger Games. People are going to die. There's nothing I can do.

She won't stop crying. I know it's a she now. I can barely see her, trying fruitlessly to wrench the knife out of her foot. With a heart shattering moan, the knife leaves her foot. And she falls silent.

I forget everything, where we are, what we are here to do. I won't stand by while she dies. I can't sit here while her life ends.

As I draw closer, I see that her blood has stained the sand nearby red. The stain taunts me, telling me I should have done more.

But the cannon hasn't fired yet.

Tearing strips off my shirt, I wrap the makeshift bandages around her foot. Time stands still as I wonder whether it will be enough.

She is alive, with raggedy breath and a confused expression on her face. I have to hope the Careers don't come back to finish the job. They can't know I've been here. If they do, it's game over for me.


	18. Shark

**for once, I have nothing to write here.**

(Shark's POV)

I'm proud of the way I killed that girl with a knife. In most places that would be considered unacceptable. Not in the hunger games, though. Emerald isn't happy, she wanted us to leave the girl alone. I don't know much about Emerald, but I bet that girl reminded her of someone back home.

I think back to how I did it. Made her feel safe, then turned around and stabbed her.

Thinking about it, I never heard the cannon go off. There was no hovercraft picking her up. Her name and picture didn't appear on the screen in the sky.

Which means there's a contender in the games who is out for my blood.

"Emerald?" She's crying. She doesn't know the girl isn't dead. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm not. I just watched you kill someone in cold blood,"

Shame, really. If she's annoyed at me, I'll have to kill her later.

Wordlessly, she picks up her pack and spear, walking off into the desert alone.


	19. Victorie pt 2

**To explain why this is Victorie's chapter: From now on, the POVs may be in a different order, but I will make sure that the tributes that are still alive get the same number of chapters. **

**To my two regular reviewers: (you know who you are!) Thank you! You guys cheer me up and make it look like my inbox is full!**

 **This is where it starts to get a little stranger...**

 **(by the way I have tried to stick to the allies that you guys put down, but...uhh...well...stuff gets hard to keep up with because I'm not very organised and I'm packing to move right now.**

 **My 100th 150th reviewers, get to pick a tribute to kill off (Sorry, sorry, I can't kill off tributes by myself, I feel so guilty)**

(Victorie's POV)

They're all asleep now, the rest of the Careers. They don't know what's coming to them. Let's just say that the only Career getting further than the first few days this year will be me. Victorie Winters. **(the underlining there is on purpose)** Apart from maybe Emerald, of course. She left earlier today, going to ally with this twelve-year-old she met at the train station. Bad move on her part. Another bad move for the Careers: picking me to guard on the first night. Fools. I walk up to the nearest one, Shark, I think his name is. My bracelet with the poisoned clasp jangles against my wrist. With practiced urgency, I unhook it from my forearm and reach out with the clasp to stab him when...

I can't move. A hovercraft has appeared above my head. Is this death, because if it is, I want to know how I died. I really want to know.

But I can't move.

"Hello, Victorie. We've been expecting you after we found what was so very unusual about your bracelet."

They know about the bracelet, but I can't be dead, because nobody would talk to a dead person.

"You cheater," a loud voice exclaims. "You absolute liar!"

I won't die a tribute in the Games, but I won't live a Victor's life either.

I am neither a casualty nor a winner.

In all my darkest schemes, I never predicted they would find out and leave me in the games.

I'm more afraid now, than I've ever been.


	20. Caleb (pt2)

**Sorry for messed up updating! Things will be more normal i.e. at least 1 chapter a week by next Wednesday. Thanks for so many reviews (88 when I wrote this)! (and, to those who asked if there are still spots in the games, there are 7 remaining. Until they are filled, they are assumed to be killed in the Bloodbath.**

 **Whirlpool833, I completely agree with what you said in the reviews. Just saying.**

(Caleb's POV again)

The Careers have sunk to a new low. Halfway through the Bloodbath, they started tearing people's jackets off. Probably to make them freeze to death. Unfortunately, they managed to tear a hole in my tunic, the tunic all tributes wear. I'm now wearing nothing but a blood soaked pair of pants and a thin, blue shirt. The blood isn't mine, it belongs to someone killed in the Bloodbath.

I need water. I'm glad they added a reservoir to the arena, unlike a couple of years ago when all the water was collected through sponsors. A popularity contest in which a Career won. Obviously.

There's a glow near the water. It looks like a bright jacket. Great! I wipe the mud off the jacket and lift it up.

Oh. Oh God. Oh my God.

There's a body attached to the jacket.


	21. Nash pt 2

**yep. We found it! I'm so happy because I can do regular updates too! (and also animate again)**

 **I realised if you look at my first few chapters, I literally have no idea what I'm doing. It's sort of funny to see how it's improved**

 **We're so close to 100. Keep going guys!**

 **I know this chapter is going to be posted at about 6:30-7 a.m. Sorry if it wakes you up.**

 **Tribute spots are still open, I think the pair from District 12 are free?**

 **1 chapter coming this afternoon, maybe?**

(Nash's POV)

Emerald didn't ally with me. I'm not surprised, I mean, it's not like she would want to ally with a weaker, younger tribute. It's only logical. I still feel betrayal though. That's funny, you have to have trust before betrayal. And it's been a while since I trusted people.

Footsteps in the sand. There are footsteps in the sand. Nobody's been here since I ran over. My footsteps are clearly visible leading people right to me. Oops.

I grab my hatchet, wary of a surprise attack. I'm glad I got one of these, they're very useful.

"Hello?" I call out into the sparse land. "Anyone here?"

A crunch of sand from behind me. I spin on the wrong foot and almost fall over. The mysterious pair of footsteps belong to Emerald. Oh, thank God.

"Nash?" she whispers. Why is she whispering. "Nash, stay very, very still."

I feel a knife pressing into my neck. Emerald tenses. Then she throws the knife she's holding.

The mystery attacker lets go and lies on the sand, bleeding heavily.

"Run, Nash, run! I'll take care of this."

I run not because I have to, but because I want to. I can't stand the sight of blood. That person seemed to have a lot of it. Blood. So much blood. I should have been prepared really. This is the Hunger Games, a tournament where 24 kids fight to the death.

I should have known.


	22. Julia pt 2

**2 chapters, officially posted.**

 **I seem to have lost all the chapters before Dakota's so if those need updating I'm essentially ruined.**

 **Still really appreciate the lovely reviews. (let's get 100 this chapter?)**

 **PM me if you're 100. If you're a guest, review and let me know:**

 **• which tribute you want killed**

 **• who you want to kill them**

 **Thanks guys!**

(Julia's POV)

I can hear the sound of someone sobbing. I don't know who it is. It sounded like two allies before. I hope they aren't the Careers.

I really hope they're not going to look for me. I'm having a hard time as it is. I think I heard Nash's voice though, so it couldn't be the Careers. Although I do seem to remember Nash allying with Emerald. I think... I think they killed someone.

I'm camouflaged by a few rocks. The Careers didn't even bother to look at that station. Now I'm glad I did. But, judging from what I heard over the last few days, 8 cannons have fired. That's 8 people who can't kill me. It's still 8 people dead though. 8 children who only wanted a chance to win. Who didn't even make the decision themselves. Who ranted and raved and screamed but were ignored. 8 kids, dead. 8 kids dead so Head Gamemaker Alec Mason could have something to show on TV. It's awful, really.


	23. Mercedes

**This is a super long A/N. You can skip it because it's so soppy.**

 **Thanks so much for 100 reviews! When I started writing, I thought I'd barely get 10. This absolutely overwhelms me so, thanks. Thanks a lot. This is my best story so far (and actually the only one I update).**

 **I can exclusively reveal that there will be a sequel.**

 **At first, I thought this story would get 1 tribute, maybe 2.**

 **This has become so much more. This is my reason, on a Friday, to sit down and just write. I just think back to when people sent me reviews saying 'where's the prologue?', 'why don't you write more?' etc. I feel like the chapters are the right length at the moment, but I'll make them longer and more frequent.**

 **The sequel will be centred around Victorie and the Victor, plus more tributes if you've come a little late to this story. The tributes will be SYOT again, and I've already started planning for it. The person who I was collaborating with has not spoken since we came up the idea, so I'm looking for a writing partner. Let me know if you're interested.**

(Mercedes' POV)

Emerald's missing from the Career base. Shark has a smug demeanour and is clutching something in his hand. Emerald's token.

He's killed her. He's actually killed her. Emerald, the only other female of the Careers, is gone. She was my only friend in these games.

Oh God. If he's gone for Emerald, I'm next.

I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die.

Even in the Hunger games, this didn't seem like an option. Failure is not an option.

If I fail here, this is the end of Mercedes Black.

Mercedes Black. My name. I wonder whether there is another Mercedes in Panem. Another little girl, young enough to stay untouched by the games, but old enough to understand. Understand what keeps twenty-three children from growing up. Maybe she's watching me right now.

I have to win for this little girl. This little girl who's dreams came to an end as she realised that the odds aren't in anyone's favour.

Screams from the arena awaken me from my thoughts. Shark started on someone else?

No, he's right in front of me, eyeing me up angrily.

He won't kill me.

Will he?

"If you're going to go for me, it'll be the last thing you'll ever do,"

These words, uttered not out of caution, but out of a desire to keep the fire raging inside me burning. The kind of fire that will be remembered.

"Come on then, go for me. I bet you'll miss."

This arrogant moron thinks he can take me on?

We raise our throwing knives. He knows I have better aim.

Suddenly, someone comes darting through the camp, providing a distraction for Shark. There's someone else behind them too. Somebody I know.

Emerald's back. She's back and she's angry.

While Shark is distracted by her, I throw my knife into his arm. I feel the hot, sticky blood soak the knife and my fingers.

"If you even look at me the wrong way again, it'll be the last thing you'll ever do."

These words, in anger. These words mean much more than you'd think.

I realise that Shark threw his knife as well. It's hit the figure in the head.

It looks like the figure is bleeding. Or, at least, they were. What I notice though, before the cannon fires, is who he is.

The boy is unmistakably Chance.

 **Sorry for ending this here... This chapter is exactly 650 words though, which I think is pretty impressive for me!**


	24. Faye

**I feel like this is my hardest chapter to write.**

 **To clarify, Emerald isn't dead. She is very much alive and fighting.**

(Faye's POV)

A cannon startles me. Another death? I really thought the drama was over for a while, but unfortunately, another tribute won't live to see their 21st birthday. Of course, twenty-one doesn't mean as much as it did in the Old World. When you were twenty-one in the Old World, you were considered to be at the pinnacle of your life. 23 kids, a few gone already, won't know what that feels like. That scares me the most, how dispensable we are as people.

An angry hiss comes from the riverbed behind me. There's a mutt, a small, but very angry cat. A small, very angry cat that's hungry for my blood.

Maybe it'd be nice to have at least one friend in the arena. There's fish in my pack, if it hasn't been stolen by the Careers that wander the arena by night, killing tributes and snatching supplies.

I push some fish towards the cat in question. It looks unwell, skeletal and starving. If I fed it straight out of my hand, it'd bite my hand off. I guess, if I feed it, it'll be calm.

It takes the fish from my hand and chews it, then swallows the whole fish in one bite.

This is one hungry cat. This cat won't attack me if I feed it.

Feeding two people (one person and a cat, actually) might be more difficult, but it'll keep me alive. And that's all that matters, really, in this place. What everyone hopes to achieve. Stay alive, they say. Stay alive and win.

I'm not losing these games to a bunch of egotistical, narcissistic cheaters. Not when I have a chance, because I will win this. I can win this.

That's the right mindset, Faye. Keep telling yourself that you're okay, that you're doing well. Keep remembering the small victories, the ones that may not necessarily make you the most famous person in Panem, but will help you keep going regardless.

Stay alive and you'll be fine, Faye.

Just keep staying alive, and you've got this in the bag. Keep going, and you'll be able to finally live out your dream of being a published novelist. I guess this is field research, really. I could write a book on how to win these games.

You never know.


	25. Fiona pt2

**Thanks again for 100 reviews!**

 **My usual spiel: There are still 5 spots left to those who are interested!**

 **Also if I kill your tribute, I am very sorry. I wish I could keep them all alive!**

 **(Cue moment of silence for 5 unnamed tributes, Victorie and Chance)**

 **I'll kill someone off when someone submits a review. That keeps me from having 22 tributes in the games.**

 **The sequel will be called...something, and it will pop up on my profile a week or so after this is finished.**

 **There may be a third book.**

 **I haven't decided about that, and I'd need your support if I am still undecided by the end of this.**

 **I'm so sad that I have to end this, because this is literally one of my proudest moments, saying that we hit the big 100. Thanks to MonkeyPower435 for being my 100th, of course.**

 **From now on the chapters will be more frequent, I mean, this is my third chapter in less than 2 days- less than one day actually!**

(Fiona's POV)

I can't believe what the stylist has done to our games outfit. It's obviously a 'cool stunt' for her in the Capitol, but it may be the reason my District 5 partner and I die. That worries me, because so far into the games, people will try and snipe off others who aren't camouflaged as well.

Our lives, for a publicity stunt.

Our lives, so she could become famous.

Now, I probably won't leave these games as a Victor.

The only thing I will see is a harsh wooden box.

Of course, seven tributes have now taken up permanent residence in that box.

That frightens me, that at least two children here have a insufferable capacity to kill.

Would we fight, if we were equal? Would we become Victors if we couldn't kill?

It's happened before, at least. It happened a few years ago, when the games were less civilised. A career ate poisonous berries and left the underdog to win.

And that underdog was from District 5. But, unfortunately, nobody remembers that victory, nobody remembers her. She got overshadowed by a brutish tribute from the previous Games- he was the one that killed the Careers and worked his way outwards, killing the tributes that ran and hid. I don't want the winner of the games to be someone like that.


	26. Ashlyn pt 2

**I'm really sorry if this doesn't line up to what Ashlyn's previously said/ done. MS Word has decided to do a bit of file cleaning, getting rid of a few older chapters along with it.**

 **I've been ill, so chapters haven't been published for a couple of weeks. I guess fate seems to be against me writing! (I'm really hoping I'm not ill on my birthday this week!) I'll post on my birthday, which probably means that Fridays are my new update schedule.**

 **also, I literally have no idea who I want to win. I love your characters in different ways- I hate killing off tributes!**

 ***We hit 115 reviews already! Thank you so much!***

(Ashlyn's POV)

I twist the dagger in my hand, knowing that with one flick, a life will end. One flick, and one competitor is gone. It's not that easy though. They'll fight. But I'll fight harder.

I've read books about twelve-year-olds in the past that solve mysteries, go camping, or make millions of dollars from writing. Sometimes, I look far away, thinking about what that would be like. Even if I won these games, it wouldn't be the same. I'd be a Victor and Mentor, required to coach others. At my age, it seems impossible that anyone would take advice from me. I'm the youngest, the one everyone forgets. As if anyone would listen.

I'd still like to change, to not have to kill people to survive. It's like, no matter what I will do, that will always haunt me from afar. Always in my subconscious. Always weasling in saying that no matter how much I succeed, I still committed the unthinkable.

I can't bring myself to kill anyone. Even the idea is strange. This idea, this state of mind. My brain wants to kill, but my heart says otherwise.

I guess, though, that this is the Hunger Games.


	27. Rant Chapter

**Before you read the next chapter (out on my birthday), I have a few things to say. I want to point out that this isn't directed at anyone in particular.**

 ***Thanks for the reviews and the happy birthday wish from Smiley!***

 **1) Be kind in the reviews section. I know all of you are already, but I just want to make that clear.**

 **2) It's not ok to plagiarise. I read a lot of fanfiction and sometimes, when I find a really good story, I notice that I've read something very similar already. I'm sure that there are always going to be people who copy others for popularity (after all, that's why there are verification ticks on Twitter etc) but seriously. It's the property of the author and the writer who has spent a lot of time on it. Don't read fanfiction to copy off it.**

 **3) Use your own writing style. This ties in to number 2. I have actually seen a few fanfictions which use almost exactly the same words / sentence structure as mine (and I'm not even that popular!). I know sometimes it's a coincidence and I'm fine with that, but if your first few chapters are very, very different to your most recent, I get suspicious. You know who you are.**

 **(oh my God I sound like I'm overreacting really badly, but how else do I put this?)**

 **4) Tell me if something's wrong with my fanfiction. Please. I won't get mad, as long as you're not outright telling me I'm awful or something (Just kidding, I want to hear exactly what you think).**

 **5) The only social media I use for FFN is Twitter. Okay, I do have a dog instagram sooooooooooo:**

 **(@daily_bailey_insta)**

 **Thanks so much for reading and reviewing my fanfiction. It means so much to me (this is my life now :)**

 **yes whirlpool those are smiley brackets!**


	28. Giveaway!

**Again, this one isn't a chapter. Sorry I didn't upload on my birthday, I'm updating Monday/Tuesday instead.**

 **I have a surprise for you all! As a thank you for 100 reviews, I'm going to be drawing one of your tributes. The winner will be announced in a later chapter.**

 **Enter form (please enter via reviews/ PM):**

 **Your username**

 **Which character you want drawn**

 **How you want to recieve it (instagram, deviantart, ffn private message etc)**

 **I don't mind how many times you enter, that's up to you.**

 ***CLOSES 1ST NOVEMBER***

 **May the odds be ever in your favour!**


	29. Phoenix (Part 1)

**PART ONE- NEXT CHAPTER IS ON NOW!**

 **Please don't review something harsh until you've read the other one.**

 **Competition now ends at midnight UK time and so far, I've drawn a few winners. Thanks to Anna Banana for being my latest reviewer and MidnightDragon32 for Phoenix.**

 **(and MonkeyPower435 for the happy birthday song!)**

 **Revealing one winner for the competition now:**

 **Alea! Is it alright if it goes on my DeviantArt (because it looks great I think).**

 **PM me for the drawing, it'll be done by the end of this week if you want her full drawing (only the head is done so far)**

 **Soundtrack for Phoenix: (this is what I listened to while writing) Life is Fun by TheOdd1sOut (ft. Boyinaband) and Africa by Toto (when I searched the artist name, I found a kazoo version, which just proves that the world is great sometimes.**

 **Did I forget to mention that Faye's muttation-cat pet is called Victor?**

 **Phoenix's POV**

I wasn't thinking. I just couldn't think, like my brain had just paused. It hadn't, of course. That would be impossible, because I'd be dead.

Somehow, that wouldn't be the worst option.

Somehow, I'd be okay with that.

After all I've done, the underlying guilt which I will have to live with if I get through this.

The guilt's already there. It can't manifest any more from what I've done. I'm not guilty about killing people, I feel guilty about the many more I'll have to, to win. It's my capacity to kill that worries me, that scares the parts of my mind that believe that I can be innocent and win.

I raise my knife over a sleeping Faye, Victor curled up next to her. She won't know. It'll be quick. Then I won't worry about what I'll do later.

Victor wouldn't make it that easy though. I might have to kill him too.

Instead of plunging the knife into Faye, I hit the ribs of Victor, sending him into a raging flurry of part mutt, part hurricane. Of course, Faye couldn't not wake up from that. It's pretty hard not to.

Phoenix? She calls my name. I can't be distracted now. I'm so close, so close to winning.

So close, I have to block her out. Her screams and her grabbing the dagger, I can't remember. I can only remember pain. Pain and fading to black. A cannon. But if I hear it, it can't be me.

I'm okay. Breathing too shallow, perhaps, but still okay. I can feel pain.

Does that make me alive or dead?

I feel like Schroëdinger's cat experiment, which is ironic, since Victor got me here. Since I'm here but I'm not. I'm fading away.

The cat always dies in the end.

The cat always dies.

I'm slipping away, slowly, but definitely.

I have no chance. Haha. Look at me, cracking jokes in the last minutes of my life. I'll have Chance soon, I guess. After all, he is dead. Soon I will be.

If it wasn't for the pain keeping me afloat on this ocean of death.


	30. Akwa (Part 2)

**2 chapters within 5 minutes. Wrote these in advance, and I left the last one on such a cliffhanger.**

 **PM me about the story, if there's anything wrong with it.**

 **Last chapter was 500 words. Took me an hour to write, because I edited it so much.**

 **After I finished writing this, I realised the crazy amount of Divergent references. I'll give you a shoutout if you can find a few!**

 **Akwa's Soundtrack: Happier by Marshmallow (ft. Bastille), and Fly Away by TheFatRat.**

 **Akwa's POV**

I think that's a corpse on the floor.

It's a corpse.

A corpse that's moving.

And.

That's blood.

There's blood all around her head. It's definitely a she. There's a knife lodged in her eye.

Holy hell. It's Phoenix, a quiet tribute who stayed hidden from the Games.

Is she breathing?

She is, though not as much as she'd need to. I think, the first thing I have to do is to take the knife out. Who killed her? Who could possibly wreak vengeance on this poor girl?

She's beginning to stir. Not much, but she looks at me through the pain, through the torture of losing at least one eye. If I was in the Capitol, they would have a prosthetic, or at least something to take the pain away.

Here, in the outskirts of society, we have precisely nothing.

I call Akwa's name, jolting her into waking up. She's not giving up yet. That's certain.


	31. Results

**These have been on the review page for a few days now, so here are the results:**

 **Alea,**

 **Emerald,**

 **and**

 **Victorie!**

 **Please review/PM me within 24 hours to claim your art.**


	32. Caleb pt 3

**Thanks to InsertUsernameHereThanks, MonkeyPower435, and Anna Banana for getting me to update.**

 **Thanks also for 200 reviews! Holy... I'm speechless. This is insane.**

 **Thanks to my 200th reviewer InsertUsernameHereThanks!**

 **PM/review me here if you want me to beta your story! I'd love to help other writers, and I'm on the list of Hunger Games betas.**

 **Still, this is insane.**

 **(Caleb's POV)**

 **Day/Early Evening**

The dead body still haunts my mind, the image of the young man. He looked about 20, and pretty similar in size and stature. If I'm not careful, I could end up like him. Dead, forgotten, alone.

I can't. I won't. I will stay alive. I will. I won't end up another casualty of the Games.

There's a rustle, a swish of footsteps on the sand before me.

I'm confronted with the wide, empty eyes of a stranger. I've seen him on TV, but differently. On TV, he looked sane. Now, he has the same dead eyes as the corpse I borrowed the clothes from.

I don't know what's more frightening, the Games, or this man.

This man with a knife, apparently.

Is this how I die? From someone who isn't even a part of the Games. Someone who, frankly, shouldn't even be here. He should be, I don't know, swanning around in his Capitol mansion, being fawned over by Avoxes and counting his money.

Alec Mason. An Alec Mason with a knife. An Alec Mason with a dead look in his eye and an alarming capacity to kill.

This might be my final moment. I'll have to act fast. I'll have to-


	33. Stuff that needs saying

**Dakota's chapter will be after this, probably. To Anna Banana: Sorry I haven't been replying to you very often! I've been absolutely swamped in work and the time zones/delay in reviewing make it so I get your reviews at about 4 in the morning here, when (surprisingly) I'm not writing/awake. I'm a night owl, but not that extreme.**

 **Yes, I do have a British accent, and we don't all drink cups of tea and discuss the weather. It's always raining, so that'd get boring pretty quickly.**

 **I sometimes don't have a lot of time to get a chapter out, which is why I make them short. I can make them longer (about 10k maybe?) but it would take me at least a month of editing and writing to get one chapter out, and I feel like a lot of people would lose interest.**

 **Thanks for Calico and your other tributes! Shark may die soon, I've written it in my writing plan. Sorry Monkey!**

 **I went to see Blood Brothers yesterday (again, British show. Idk whether it's carried over to America but it's awesome) and I loved it! (and quoted it)**

 **QOTD: (I love learning about you guys so...) What's the weirdest hospital trip you ever had? I have a few good stories that I'll share in the reviews.**

 **Thank you for 50 reviews since the last chapter! I'm stunned! I've had literally 100 since September. Since I've been writing this for months now, I'm doing another giveaway. Details announced at the end.**

 **Also, MonkeyPower435 and Smiley, I have loads of stuff to do, but I'll post the YouTube link in the reviews, and I'll PM you yours, Monkey. Only when I'm done, though, obviously.**

 **Giveaway rules:**

 **1) Submit your entry via reviews. I don't get notified for PMs and, as a result, you may not be entered. I don't know why it doesn't notify me, but I usually don't get PMs**

 **2) ALL entries must be in by November 15th, at midnight London time. No exceptions, your entry simply will not be counted.**

 **3) Play fair. No spamming me with your character. I'm classing spamming as 20 reviews or more saying the same thing. I use a name picker to pick the winners and it's not fair if it's 95% yours.**

 **4) Remind me to keep up with this. I'm running 2 giveaways, one that's being finished (shading, smoothing etc) and one that's just started. Just please remind me, I won't get mad.**

 **Thanks for following these guidelines, and remember, I love reading your reviews, so thanks to everyone!**

 **Today's shoutout is to:**

 **Smiley, for being my first reviewer! You're the one that made me update those first 5 chapters. I owe you one. :)**


	34. Calico

**I'm so sorry for not updating! I'm stuck with complete writer's block, and I'm really busy with stuff. I am going to start updating more, definitely.**

 **It's been 3 weeks since Caleb's chapter. Wow I'm horrible at updating this. Sorry again.**

 **But this is 945 words, so will you forgive me?**

 **There's still a *plagariser* out there copying my story, which is part of the reason I didn't update. I lost my motivation because all I did, all I do, is getting reviewed and commented on other stories when it's my own work. All I can say is, that's low. It's really low to steal someone's writing, and I know exactly who you are. If you don't stop or apologise for stealing my work, I may not update so you can't steal any more. I'd enjoy seeing what you actually write like, without copying my story.**

 ***Thanks for 60 reviews since the last chapter***

 **(Calico's POV)**

I chew on a leg of groosling, savouring every bite. This could be the last meal of my life, I remind myself as I bite into another piece.

Great. There's nothing left for tomorrow. What does it matter? I could be dead by then anyway. A rotting corpse, on my way home.

Obviously, I try not to think about that. It's definitely not good to fight while thinking about your impending doom. Unless it would make me a better fighter, of course. Anything would at this point. I am awful with a spear, a knife, any weapon at all actually.

But, I could take out the Career's food supply. Sneak in, catlike, and flood it, or set fire to it, or blow it up.

Ironic how I'm called Calico, a colour of cat, and I can sneak around.

I time myself walking into the Careers' camp. I don't know why I do this; I think it's just a habit I grew up with. They haven't seen me yet, which means I'm doing a good job at staying under the radar. I brought a lighter, a Capitol one with different types of flame that I got from the Cornucopia.

There's crates, a sack of meat, and gasoline.

Unfortunately, the gasoline is just to the right of me, right in front of the Careers. If I went to get it, they would see me for sure.

Oh well. I might die anyway.

Quick as a flash, I sprint towards the tank of it, ignoring the remarks of the Careers. They've seen me, sure, but could they react before I burn their supplies?I sure hope they can't, otherwise I'd be dead.

Huh, on closer inspection, there is only one there. Shark, I think his name is. He's staring at me as if I'm a corpse already.

I think I might be, but before I do, I'll kill him and set this stuff ablaze.

Before he can go for me, I throw the gasoline over the pile of supplies, and chuck the lighter on it.

Good. Lots of fire. Shark, or anyone else, won't be able to salvage anything from this.

There's hands on my neck. Shark's.

This is where I die, isn't it. A corpse charred to cinders on a fire of his own creation. That's more ironic than my name.

Suddenly, Shark is torn off me and there's a knife pointed at me. Two death threats in less than a minute? That has to be a record.

Emerald and Caleb are staring at me.

"Uhh...hello? Please don't kill me."

I don't usually beg, but with my life at stake then I guess I'll make an exception.

Emerald moves the knife slightly, and I hear the grind of it against my throat.

"I won't hurt you, unless you're with Shark."

I tell her I'm not, and the knife retracts fully. Thank God, I'm not in the mood to die.

Is there a mood to die in?

Shark is restrained by Caleb, but I can see he's struggling. I know Caleb doesn't have a violent bone in his body, so the Hunger Games must be hard for him. Hell, it's hard for everyone else too.

So, to save him the trouble, I yank Shark to his feet, restrain him, and throw him into the still blazing fire.

 ***GRAPHIC WARNING- Summary at end***

I stop, sickened but transfixed to Shark's body as his skin falls from his bones, his eyes haunted as he falls to the ground, only one charred eye remaining. His eye stares at me accusingly, telling me that this isn't right, that what I'm doing isn't right.

I knew that anyway, though. I also know that every camera in Panem is trained on my face.

 _Don't cry, Calico, don't cry. You don't want the world to see you cry._

The cannon blast startles me out of my reverie. Of course, the hovercraft needs to come to collect his charred corpse.

Emerald chucks his eye, covered in ash and blood, at me.

"Look what you've done. What you did to a teenager. I wouldn't have done that. I would never have done that."

Have I gone too far? Will Emerald kill me, to avenge Shark?

 **Summary**

Calico watches Shark die, and Emerald accuses him of killing an innocent teenager. He wonders whether he's gone too far, and tells himself not to cry.


	35. Dakota again

**Hand is still hurting a bit, but I owe you a chapter. Let's get 300 this chapter? 18 off, and I can't wait! Shoutout to InsertUsernameHereThanks, she is awesome and just hit 100 reviews, so go over to her story and help her get to 200 soon! This chapter is only about 700 words, and I used speech-to-text on my computer for a lot of it, so if there's any words that aren't in the right place, then it's not my fault (apart from the fact that I burned myself on a soldering iron, obviously)**

 **I haven't announced the results of the contest yet, and if I've said I'll draw yours, then it'll be done soon (Flipping computer deleted all of it- I'm hoping to get a new, functional computer for writing art soon)**

 **I got a prompt to write this, and needed to practice this type of writing so:**

 **Prompt: Time, countdown**

 **POV: Dakota's**

 **Time: About 6pm**

 **(Dakota's POV)**

24 hours. That's what Shark said. 24 hours until he kills me. I don't have a watch, but the sun burning my skin tells me. It's about six in the afternoon. Six hours since Shark threatened to kill me.

Eighteen hours until he will.

Will my corpse be shown on television? I hope not, I don't think my family could take it. The fact that the Capitol could scares me.

Seventeen and a half hours left. I've been counting the minutes, all thirty of them. I want to know what it feels like to win. Oh well.

Seventeen. I can smell smoke, and I just heard a cannon. Am I going crazy, or is this real? I don't know. Let's assume I'm crazy, it's the most likely, after all.

Sixteen. They showed the faces in the sky a minute ago. I wish it was Shark. I missed the start, so I wouldn't know. The other person I saw, I can't remember their name.

I bet I could if I was sane. He stares st me inside my head, asking me why I survived and he didn't, why I don't remember him, why I can't grieve for him because I don't know who he is.

Fourteen. It's well past ten now. Fourteen hours until I die. That's weird to think about. How will he kill me?

Thirteen hours and fifteen minutes. God, how my heart beats. It pounds away, knowing that each beat is ticking closer to it's last. I can wait, wait for decades, until it's still. But I won't. I'll die tomorrow, but for now I'll keep watch.

Eleven hours. I heard something in the bushes. Shark? I don't know.

Ten hours. It's going to happen soon. I don't want to think about it though. I'm just...so tired. Exhausted even. What it would be to just fall asleep now without a care in the world. I think about this for a while, because I have nothing better to do. I'm just so tired...

I bolt upright, startled by the beams of sunlight. How long did I sleep for? I shouldn't have slept. Oh god, what if he's coming now. I'm not ready to die. I'm not. Not yet.

I hear someone coming out of the bushes. Two people. Who are they.

Emerald and Caleb are staring at me, eyes wide. I won't kill them. They haven't done anything- yet.

Caleb's covered in ash, and now that I look at it, so is Emerald. Are they responsible for the fire?

"What's the time?" I ask them. I hope they know, because I have no idea.

Emerald consults the pocket watch dangling from her belt. It's a fancy model, and it looks like it's been made in the Capitol. A Cornucopia item, no doubt.

"It's ten minutes to one. Why?"

I explain what happened with Shark yesterday, and Emerald confesses to seeing Shark yesterday. Apparently, he was the cannon that I heard last night.

I could keep going. I have a shot. With Shark dead, I could win this!

It's just a matter of time.


	36. Thanks

**I might count this as one of the 5 chapters as I'm tired and my hand still hurts.**

 **Note to self: Stop making promises at 8:40 pm.**

 **Thank you sooooooooooooooo much for 300 reviews! I'm actually shocked, I really didn't expect it this week. You have all been so supportive and awesome.**

 **Thanks. From the bottom of my heart, thanks.**


	37. Emerald again

**Here you go 2/5 or 1/5 depending on whether I have a co writer help (she's got this, hopefully). Go favourite InsertUsernameHereThanks, she's helping me out to tackle this insanity.**

Emerald's POV)

I grasp Caleb's hand, shocked that he's still alive. He was so, so close to death, but he's still here. That's what matters. I think that this is hard for everyone here, but I try not to show it.

I hear someone counting in the difference. I don't know who it is, but I bet it's someone that Shark threatened. He's like that.

Or at least, he was. Now he's nothing. Dead, ashes. He's passed through Hell's gates. Off to somewhere that I hope is better. I hated him, but not to the extent that I wanted him to die. I don't want anyone to die, really. It's so cruel, so tragic, that we're still here while they are not.

And Caleb was almost there. Oh god, Caleb. I don't know what I'd do without him. He's like another Sapphire, quiet, smart, friendly.

Naïve. I couldn't let him die here. I would before him, and I know it.

A sickening squelch of a knife hitting someone's body alarms me. Who is it, or what? I don't know, but I'm scared for my life.

But mostly Caleb's.


	38. Julia again

**3/2, again. If I haven't included your tribute yet, they're probably up soon.**

 **It's chapter 38! Wow, that's crazy! Already?**

 **Warning: dark themes in this chapter. Read with caution.**

(Julia's POV)

I can't do this. Not here. Not now. I'm going insane, crumbling apart. I grab the knife and angle it at my chest. Could I kill myself? I've seen tributes before do it, so I won't be the first. It's fine, I guess. I could, but I'm still holding on to life by my fingertips. Keeping the faith.

I don't want to die here. Forget that, I don't want to die at all. I'd want to be preserved forever in memories, like I had never existed at all.

I heard Willow yesterday, with Alea. She sounded like she was dying. I don't want to face that.

Willow. I call her name, a whisper in the soft darkness.

She can see me, she's coming closer. She knows who I am? I'm surprised, I mostly keep to myself. I think it's best that way.

Willow and I lock eyes, and we know what we have to do. I've never seen her like this, but I've known her her entire life.

We were pen pals, from when I got the address wrong on a letter to my friend. Somehow, she ended up recieving it, and that's how we became friends. I know everything about her, her favourite colour (blue) to her dead pet (cat). We were best friends, up until I left her.

I started communicating with her less, and altogether bagan to move on. She sent me letters yelling at me, and then letters apologising. I didn't know what to feel, so I blocked all of it out and just let her do whatever she wanted.

She comes up to me, and whispers something in my ear.

I didn't know. Oh Willow, I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have known.


	39. Willow again

**4/3 Let's do this. I'm still willing to talk, and don't feel worried about asking me. I know it's about 5pm in Washington, DC, but I don't know where my American reviewers live, so if I'm wrong, then I'm a bad guesser.**

 **I'm releasing my YouTube channel link soon, and stupidly, all the art I've done has been deleted by my computer. It's been like 2 months, I'm sorry.**

 **It's almost 11pm here, and I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow, so this might be the last chapter you get out of me.**

 **There'll be one tomorrow then.**

 **Have a nice night if you're British, and a nice afternoon if you're American. Oh, and, happy Thanksgiving! I didn't put that last time, so I'll put it now.**

 **It's almost Christmas, so merry Christmas if you celebrate it!**

 **Happy late Hanukkah to anybody here who celebrates it!**

(Willow's POV)

I told Julia. I didn't want to admit that I did, but I had to.

I told her about my sister.

What actually happened-

I didn't send those letters. Not the bad ones, at least.

It was my younger sister, also called Willow. You see, doctors said I would die, back when I was two or three. They said I wouldn't live to see my fourth birthday. My family went back to even my great-great-great-grandmother being called Willow. Willow Everdeen. Now, obviously, I'm not Willow Everdeen. I don't share a last name with the couple killed a few weeks ago. My parents decided to name my sister Willow as well, because they thought I wouldn't pull through. One day, my sister got one of the letters addressed to me, and realised what I had done. She was convinced that the letters were meant for her, and I was just stealing her spotlight. As revenge, she decided to hurt my pen friend. She told her that she was worthless, stupid, and her family hated her. She was so, so cruel. I tried salvaging the situation, telling her that I was sorry, that it wasn't my fault, but she didn't believe me. Nobody does.

After all, I didn't tell her about my sister.

And that was the biggest regret of all.

Now, I can see her face to face, and she knows I'm not lying this time. I hope.

"I'm sorry for not telling you. Allies?" I ask, breathless

"Of course," she responds, "I'd love to"

We decide to team up with Faye and Alea as well. Four is better than two, and Faye has a cat-muttation thing. Five, then.

All seems well, apart from the games itself. I'm glad to know that my sister just watched me expose her on live air, and I know that every camera, every microphone, was watching and listening to us.

I'm famous, for having a lying sister. That's one way to get famous, I guess. Not the best, but one way. I hope our team won't dissolve into murder like the Careers.

I really hope Julia forgives me fully, though. I can see she's holding something back.


	40. Faye part 2

**I'm still horrible at updating, and replying to reviews. I've been a bit distracted, and I've been moving all of my files over, including the story plan. Art is still screwed up, annoyingly.**

 **Thank you sooooooooooo much for 400 reviews, and to InsertUsernameHereThanks for being my 200th, 300th and 400th (that's quite a title!) Your support is always appreciated!**

 **Shoutout to: Anna Banana, Smiley, Whirlpool833, InsertUsernameHerePlease MonkeyPower435 and everyone else who reads this for reviewing so much! You keep me writing!**

 **I'm now an official beta-reader, so I'll beta your stories if you're looking for an English beta-reader. I do the Hunger Games, Maximum Ride, Harry Potter, Life is Strange, and a few more.**

 **Stop spamming me with random letters. Seriously, if you think my writing sucks, tell me why. But please, stop spamming me. It doesn't help this story. It's stupid, and all of your reviews have been deleted. Seriously, if you're going to tell me my writing sucks, write something of quality first.**

 **Or just turn your phone/computer off and go outside. Think about things. Take a walk.**

 **It's easy to hide behind a screen. It's much harder to say it to someone's face. Tell me. Give me a reason.**

 **And stop plagiarising my writing, please.**

 **-I do not own THG, only my personal twists.**

 **-The 'cheating tribute' scenario was created by me, and a few stories that have been published after mine, by people that review this, use the same scenario. It's my twist to the games, and I recommend thinking of your own. I spent a lot of time making these games interesting, and I keep having my twists from my story used in someone else's. **

**Anna, I'm not going to answer a couple of questions- I'm absolutely not mad at you at all, I just...it's pretty complicated. I wish I could explain.**

 **I love your story and everything about it. Please, please get it published. It's brilliant, and more people should read it then just the people in my reviews section.**

 **450 reviews this chapter (Just kidding :)?**

(Faye's POV)

Victor is sleeping next to me, his fragile form shaking with every breath. Alea hit him with her weapon, a long scythe, that, frankly, she shouldn't have anyway. She can barely lift it.

The sun is rising over the arena. The residents of the Capitol will be awake, excited to watch these Games.

I'm not excited to be living them, though. This is hell.

Willow is the second one to rise. I can see her, opening her eyes slowly. I don't think she wants to wake up.

Neither do I. This feels like torture, designed to hurt us in every way.

I suppose I'd better get into the spirit of things, anyway. So much for our 'alliance' It won't last long when everyone apart from me is dead.

I hold my knife to Willow's throat. I can see, in her eyes, shock, horror, confusion, acceptance.

She knows she's going to die. Of course she does.

It's not likely she'll get out of this.

I press harder, drawing blood now. Her eyes are turning to glass, her face pale. I'm watching her die, apparently.

Until I'm grabbed around the neck.

Alea was awake. She saw the whole thing.

Now the tables have turned.

1 versus 1, 2 versus 1.

I'm trapped. Stuck here, with Alea pinning me down. This could be my death.

If I let it happen, it will.


	41. Bailey again lol

**I uhh...writer's block. Yeah. Sorry :)**

 **Also, we hit 500 reviews.**

 **500 fricking reviews.**

 **I don't think I can even say anything. I'm shocked, but I'm so proud of you guys for pulling together.**

 **Thanks to InsertUsernameHereThanks/TheTributeGoddess for being 500! (TheTributeGoddess, you were originally 500, but I had to moderate a couple of reviews [Anna and Whirlpool, chapters/story ideas you want me to delete have been removed!] so InsertUsernameHereThanks is currently, and probably will stay as 500th, unless anyone needs me to delete anything else.**

(Bailey's POV)

I'm quiet, absolutely silent. I have to be. Even though I heard the cannons. Plus, I saw the projection in the sky. But who knows if I'm safe?

I'm okay, I tell myself. I'm alive.

Is that all that matters here, in the cold black sky? I heard screams, earlier today, and a cannon.

Another allegiance has fallen. I know it, and so does everybody else. There's no rectifying, no going back, once the cannon has fired.

Whoever it was is just a memory now, a cold body still remembering the life it once had, before it became an empty, cold shell.

The dark blue shimmering dome of the forcefield lights up in the sky, no doubt killing something. A fly, maybe? No, the energy is too strong, and too powerful, to kill anything that small.

Oh God. Ohhh. This is why they have the forcefield.

All I can see in the sky is a body, all I hear an agonizing scream that chills me to the bone. It's. It's a…human.

I can't even bear to look. Really. God, it sounds like it's going to die.

Maybe this could be my way out. This death, free from blood and the cold.

Quick.

I gather supplies, a wet sleeping bag. Some raw food, groosling. I savour every morsel now, every bite.

It's time. I sprint to the edges of the arena, no longer caring who sees me.

"Bailey?" I hear.


	42. Nash because Nash

**You know, writer's block problems. Agh. We're almost at 550 reviews! Wow, it seems like only a few days since we hit 30! Thanks for the continued support :).**

 **I made a Reddit account a couple of weeks ago so...uhh...you can talk to me there I guess at u/technicalitrees (I'm literally only active on AskReddit and EntitledParents though.**

 **Thank you sooooooooooo (extended oooo) much to InsertUsernameHereThanks aka Millie, for doing Emerald's art (yes, I know it's been 4 months. Yes I'm an irresponsible idiot :( sorry) She totally saved my life as I still can't transfer my files over and my laptop has given up for good. Oh .jpeg .png. How could you betray me so?**

(Nash's POV)

I hope Bailey heard me. I mean, I'd do anything to escape this place. Anything. It's a death trap, not even mentioning hhe other tributes about to kill me at any moment. No biggy.

He said he could escape with me. I hope. I hope I don't die, to start with. Even surviving is wishful thinking here. Bailey and I have everything we need to survive. I think, at least. God only knows here.

We rush to the forcefield, listening to the buzz of the fence. That rhythmic buzz helped me sleep when I found no comfort. Now, it will save my life.

Before Bailey can even tell me when to destroy the forcefield, I plunge my knife into it.

 _Kaboom!_

I'm swept off my feet as I grab onto anything, everything, that could provide support. I watch for Bailey in the darkness, but I can't find him anywhere. With a 'clunk', I am plummeted back to my base. I can see bright red blood, the sort that appears in twenty-first century films. Too bright, I think. A bright pop of colour against the dark sky. That's the first thing I notice before the agonising pain sets in.

Now, I don't only see black. Lights pop at the edge of my vision, pounding like the pain erupting from my stomach. I feel like I'm slipping away. No. I have to find Bailey. He will know what to do. We can escape. As I search frantically, I see a figure retreat into the darkness. Is it Bailey? He could have sabotaged the forcefield plan so I'd die.

"Nash?" A voice, contrasting to the bright lights and sound, shaking me out of my stupor.

It's him. Bailey. He wouldn't hurt me when we both needed to escape.

I hear him call out for me, holding my hand. I feel him shaking me, telling me to survive.

But...I'm just so tired. Drifting. In and out, Nash, just breathe.

I need to sleep, although Bailey tells me not to. I know, that if I sleep now, I won't wake up.

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. I close my eyes, waiting for the sweet call of death. I'd see my friends, the ones that never returned from last year's games.

I drift. Awake. Alive. Dying. It's not so bad. I'm not in pain anymore at least.


	43. Bailey's chapterBrief update

**How do I even write this? Okay, I'm so sorry. It's been almost 2 months. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I regret leaving this so long, I regret ending the last chapter how it did (I might go back and edit it later). To answer a couple of reviews, I am not abandoning this in any way, shape or form. I just needed some time to think. I'm still here. Always.**

 **Yeah, I'm really sorry. And I'm still alive. I just needed some time to figure out what to do with this story, what to write, and to move on from the last chapter.**

 **The last couple of chapters have been panning between Nash and Bailey, and that will stop soon, I just need to tie up some loose ends with their story.**

 **So, here you go. If this chapter seems more cynical/dark than the others, it's probably my music taste (Avril Lavigne was the main playlist for this chapter)**

(Bailey's POV)

I clutch Nash's hand, willing him to stay here, alive. Deep down, I know he's dying. It's my fault. Of course it's my fault. Maybe I'm dying. Dying of guilt, that's for sure.

This is my fault, I tell myself. This is my doing.

If I wasn't here, this wouldn't happen. I'd be fine, at home or...anywhere really. Anywhere but here.

I don't think, not even for a moment, that I'm going to win. Of course I don't. My heart aches too strong, for this kid who I only met the other day, for this kid who I'm killing. Slowly. I get to watch the light leave his eyes. I can't, oh God, I can't look away. To see him lie here, knowing I can't do anything. I'm missing part of myself, as well. The part that keeps me going.

Resilience. Ten letters. Four syllables. One word missing from my vocabulary, clearly. One word which I'll never have, after this. I can't stay here. I can't leave.

The fire rages around me, the cannons telling everyone about the death of somebody.

My fault. Mine. All me.

If I wasn't so stupid- if I had thought about what I was doing, this would have never had happened. Nash is too far gone now. I can see him in the border between our world and what comes next. One which I'll have to face. Eventually, we'll all die. It feels weird to know that, like it's a secret. Of course it's not.

This is my punishment. Death would be too easy. Of course.

An endless spiral of guilt and pain. I can't hold on to how I feel like this.

Disconnected. Hopeless. I don't think I know what I'm doing anymore. I don't think anyone does know. Especially not me. Into the unknown once again, I guess.

I hear another cannon fire. Closer now. I run, because I have to. I can't hear the third. I can't do this. I can't see his face in the sky. I need to run.

I tell Nash that I'll miss him, and I'll see him soon. If I'm not in hell, I'm assuming.

Then I run. Past the border, beyond the sky. Beyond anywhere. I think about Nash. I think about his final moments, in a burning arena.

I have no doubt what spin the Capitol will put on this. I'll be assumed dead in the chaos. I wonder what they would do with my corpse.

Footsteps. A shadow. A knife.

This is it. I know whoever it is, whether they are a tribute or not, will kill me.

Am I okay with that? I don't want to live with this guilt. The guilt of knowing I can never make it up to Nash.

Suddenly, I see Alea. I don't really remember her, but apparently she followed me.

I hear her speak to me, but I'm in my own world. One without the guilt, the grief and the pain.

"You're bleeding, you know."

I am? I had no idea. Adrenaline is the only thing coursing through my veins, the blood being cursed with the pain of losing someone.

 _It was preventable. That's the worst part._

Nash didn't have to die. Of course he didn't. But he did, and it was my fault.

Alea grabs my shoulder, staring at me. I look directly into her eyes, and I know that she knows how I'm feeling.

I wonder how? I don't remember her being that vicious in the training centre. Not as much as Shark, clearly. Was anyone?

My mind clouded by guilt, I let her lead me to a crevice in the rocks nearby.

She tells me it wasn't my fault, that I couldn't have done anything.

She's wrong. It's all lies. Even though I wish it wasn't. I let her bandage my leg, which is bleeding much heavier than I thought it was. I would talk to her, but I'm just so tired of it all.

 _Ten hours later- 12pm._

I wake up to the pain of my leg. Oops. I almost forgot about that. However, I can't forget about Nash.

And what I did. What I did might break me. I still see his body fly away from the forcefield, coming to a abrupt halt by our camp. He was too young for this. We all are. Every single one of us.

Nobody here cherishes life. We don't remember the dead as much as we should. Or do we remember them too much? Here, in this desert, it's all about who has the most kills, and who gets out. Who becomes famous. Nobody values anyone else's life, their dreams, their memories, their family. It's all about being the most ruthless.

This isn't who I want to be. This is never what I wanted.

Maybe it's time to embrace the unknown. You never know.

If this is unknown, what is unknown Bailey like? Am I ruthless as well, killing to win? Or am I the casualty in this war I'm fighting against myself?

Who am I? What if I'm anywhere else? I wish. Anywhere else would be preferable. As if I get to choose.

This is my luck isn't it? To be trapped in realities, a shadow of what my childhood was. I was a naïve kid, all things said. I don't consider myself a kid anymore.

I consider myself a murderer. Of course I do. It's my fault, after all. It's all my fault.

I want to apologise to Nash. To his family. I can't deal with the knowledge that he would be alive right now, if it wasn't for me.

I am responsible. Responsible for his death.

It's my fault.


End file.
